


Sweet Talk

by convallaria_majalis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Begging, F/M, Femdom, Pain, obi wan is the ideal sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6619378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convallaria_majalis/pseuds/convallaria_majalis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ventress gets what she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Talk

"Are you ready?" she asks.

He smiles at her. "Of course."

"You know," she says, "once, I would have destroyed you trying to get this."

"And you'd still have been left wanting," he replies. "But look what a little politeness will get you."

He offers her his hands. She takes them and binds them with strict but careful knots; they fall in his lap as she kisses him and he lets out a quiet sigh. She flicks a finger and the end of the rope loops around a ring in the wall, pulling his arms and body with it. She watches him test the ropes, admiring the subtle ways his muscles move, savoring the flash of his smile. Then she rises, a length of cane resting loosely in her hand.

"Face the wall," she says quietly. He turns, his gaze lingering over his shoulder. She draws a step closer, watching him square his body as if to spar. Feet shoulder width apart, eyes straight ahead, muscles relaxed. He shivers when she touches the skin between his shoulder blades, tracing the old marks there and imagining the ones that will join them.

"Get on with it," he mutters.

She grins wickedly. "What was that?"

He turns halfway to face her. "I said, get on with it. Before we both die of old age."

In a flash she pins him to the wall, her body pressed against his. "I don't quite understand," she whispers in his ear. "You'll have to be more specific."

He groans. " _Hurt me_ , Asajj," he says through gritted teeth.

She takes a step back for leverage and flicks her wrist. The cane whistles. Every muscle in Obi-Wan's body tenses; a small sound of pain escapes his mouth. She watches the red welt rise slowly on his skin, a perfect diagonal, and just as she hears his breathing start to level out she lays another one next to it.

Kenobi has a pain tolerance higher than most mortals; she knows this. She is patient. By the time she brings the cane down the other way, to cross her previous even lines, his knees are trembling, but he has not made another sound.

No matter. A few more well-timed hits and he begins to gasp; the sounds get sharper and throatier as she crisscrosses his back. He turns his head to one side. His eyes are closed tight, his lips parted with panting.

"Look at me," she commands.

With effort, he raises his head. She pulls her arm back, and just as their eyes meet, the switch cracks across his body, landing exactly atop the first mark.

He screams. A jolt of electricity runs through her and she steps toward him, winding up for another terrible strike--and freezes. He has turned, his bound hands moving to protect his face. "Wait," he says between labored breaths. "I surrender."

She tosses the cane aside and gently lays a hand on either side of his face. "Oh?" she says. He leans into her and nods. He's shaking.

"I accept," she says, giving him a quiet kiss. Then she looses his hands from the ring and supports him as he slides to the floor. She stays standing, running her hands through his hair, giving him a moment to catch his breath.

He presses a series of kisses to her thigh, slowly moving upwards. His breath is hot on her skin, the touch of his beard like tiny sparks. In a tone that's close to reverence, he asks, "May I?"

"You may," she answers. One hand stays in his hair. The other finds the wall and presses into it, anchoring her lest she melt away. She arches her back, rocking into him; her breathing goes heavy and shallow at intervals and all she feels is heat and pleasure and Obi-Wan's low rumbling sounds of happiness.

He pulls away for a moment--Force, he just can't resist teasing her, can he?--and smiles up at her with an innocence that's almost hilarious. A moan chokes in her throat.

"What?" he grins. "Would you like me to keep going?"

She hauls him up by his elbow, half drags him to the other side of the room, and throws him to his knees again at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, I love it when you get rough, darling," he smiles.

"You better hope I don't punish you for that," she growls, settling in front of him, her knees framing his shoulders. His clear blue eyes are fixed on hers.

He bends forward and murmurs, "I think I can make it up to you."

Ventress relaxes back onto her elbows. His mouth is so warm, so soft, and every so often he takes little nips at the sensitive skin on her thighs. She shivers at the contrast. She could get used to this view, Obi-Wan's ruddy head bowed between her legs, his freckled shoulders trembling with enthusiasm as he works. He tries a few different patterns, changing every so often, until he hits on one that makes Ventress _growl_ and sink back into the sheets.

"Force, Obi-Wan," she breathes, "keep doing _exactly that_ "--he makes a noise of assent, and a short while later her hand clutches his hair. She stammers his name as she comes, making the bed shake with the force of it.

When she can raise her head again, she sees Obi-Wan smiling gently up at her, his head resting on her knee. A few strands of his coppery hair have fallen out of place. She fixes them with a touch, then pulls him up to meet her in a kiss. His mouth is slick, tastes like her, and she makes a low noise of approval in the back of her throat.

In a second she has him flat on his back on the bed; all the air is knocked out of his lungs or he'd be making some teasing remark right now. His cock is flushed red and achingly hard. Ventress simply ghosts the tips of her fingers over it, and his hips jerk upwards at her touch. She shoves them back with enough force to draw a gasp.

"Stay down," she orders, and then she wraps her hand around his cock, stroking upwards so slowly that Obi-Wan whimpers.

She repeats the movement again and again, watching his desperation increase with every passing second. He knows better than to try another thrust. His hands grip the bed-frame; his eyebrows knit together with the effort of controlling his desire. Ventress looks down at him hungrily, letting her other hand roam over his chest, and then she leans down and takes the thin skin of his neck between her teeth. She bites hard, harder, feels his pulse on her lips. He moans, a beautiful sound that evaporates into disappointment when she lets go.

"Use your words," she murmurs.

He gasps. "More," he says breathlessly, and she's only too happy to oblige, her mouth this time just above his collarbone. The noise he makes when her teeth meet his skin is as sweet as sugar.

Slowly, Ventress leaves a trail of bruises down his torso, making him ask for each one. Her fingers haven't stopped tormenting him, and she feels his chest rise and fall rapidly, tiny sounds escaping his mouth with each breath.

She grazes her teeth over the peak of his hip, her eyes flicking up to catch his, and then she turns her head and takes one long lick up the side of his cock. He shudders. "Asajj--"

Her lips are burning, waiting, a hair's breadth away from his skin. He closes his eyes, and she moves forward eagerly to take him. He shivers and squirms beneath her, her tongue moving expertly, but after what seems like only a few seconds she pulls up again.

"Tell me what you want, Kenobi." She licks her lips.

He draws a shaky breath. "Please," he says, his voice cracking. "Make me yours."

The words have no sooner left his lips than she's on him again with a ferocity, intent on one thing only. As her mouth moves, her sharp nails make jagged lines on his hips, his thighs, his stomach. She wants to leave her mark on every inch of him.

Soon, Ventress hears his breathing change as he nears climax; she takes that as her cue to bring her pace nearly to a halt. His head rises from the bed and then falls back with a groan.

"Asajj--"

She sits up, straddling him, then pulls him up by the shoulder.

"You want to come, don't you?" He nods feverishly. His body nestles against hers and she rakes her nails across his still-raw back. He sobs into her neck.

"Beg me for it," she whispers, and he does, of course he does, the words tumbling from his mouth in starts.

"No," she says, so softly, and a shiver passes through his body, leaves him trembling. "Not yet." Asajj reaches one hand up to Obi-Wan's hair and pulls. She makes him look her in the eye as her other hand returns to his cock.

"Oh--" he breathes, cut off by a gasp, then cut off again by Ventress' lips on his, as gentle as her hands are rough. He kisses her hard, his mouth restless, seeking something unnameable. Then his lips drop to her neck, whispering "Please" with every breath. Her arm is around his waist now and she can feel every tremor of his body as he begs her for release.

"Now, my dear," she says. Finally she stops holding back, and he straightens up, tensing as pleasure begins to take hold of him. Ventress takes in every detail of his expression. Obi-Wan's teeth are sunk deep into his lower lip; his eyes are shut tight. His deep breaths break into tortured moans, getting lower and hoarser until he pushes forward and growls into her shoulder.

Ventress sighs happily, putting her arms around him. She draws him close as the last moments of orgasm shake him. At last she feels him relax against her.

"Well?" he asks, with a slight laugh. "Was that--everything you wanted?"

She smiles, then frees his hands with a few quick movements of her fingers. He flexes and stretches them, and she reaches out to pass her hand lightly over the red marks pressed into his wrists.

She says, "Everything and more.”

With one more sigh of contentment, Ventress rolls onto her back, stretching. After a few moments Obi-Wan moves as well, curling up on his side with his head on her stomach, his eyes closed in a gentle smile.

They lay there, she caressing his face or letting her hand rest in his. Briefly, she leans forward to check his back--the skin is not broken, but the bruises will be as breathtaking as the ones down his chest.

"You did very well today," she murmurs.

He catches her hand and presses it to his lips. "Anything for you, my dear," he says, and that makes her want him all over again.

Maybe in a few hours.

**Author's Note:**

> averagebunny gets half the credit and half the blame for this. i seem to remember she said "obi wan begging" and i took off running. SHE'S THE BEST :*


End file.
